Mustang and Hughes Alphabet
by seaweedfma
Summary: 26 fics written with a Roy and Maes friendship theme some have Maes x Gracia & Roy x Riza pairings . Set from the Academy up to after the series. There are series spoilers. Rated M for safety. Fics are humerous and angsty and everywhere between. Enjoy!
1. A and B

Title: A is for Art  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Silly goodness.. Mmmm...

**

Art.

Roy Mustang had never really been particularly fond of it, although Hughes had visited his office enough times and noticed the doodles that the colonel occasionally made on the papers that he was supposed to be looking over and signing to know that he had much more respect for art than he would care to admit to anyone, even his best friend.

"That's a cute Black Hayate." Hughes mentioned once while sitting in the comfortable leather chair- his legs crossed, a goofy smile on his face. He was just putting away yet another picture of his lovely daughter, who had recently learned how to walk. And of course he had to tell Roy *ALL* about it.

The lanky man smiled more at the look on Mustang's face, the smugness and bluster were gone, replaced by embarrassment and annoyance.

"Don't you have ANYTHING better to do, Lt. Colonel?" Hughes frowned at the proper title.

"I dunno, *FLAME*. Don't you have paperwork that you need to sign instead of pining over Hawkeye's dog?"

The smile returned to the alchemist's face. "Touche, Maes." He covered up the drawing with another sheet of paper. He sighed, knowing what he was about to do was dangerous, but at the moment, it seemed the lesser of the two evils. Mustang covered his eyes with his hand and barely mumbled "So, you said that Elysia is walking now?"

Mustang caught the quick glint in his friend's eyes. He knew the head of Investigations was aware of how he was trying to change the subject, and quickly.

But Maes said nothing, and immediately pulled out another stack of photos from a different pocket of his dress blues. The alchemist had to wonder which of the many pockets held photos of his daughter. He could pretty safely guess all of them.

And all of a sudden, he wondered if maybe his artistic prowess wouldn't have been a better topic of conversation. "Oh, she is so cute!" Hughes beamed. "She pulls herself up using the couch and..."

Roy Mustang sighed and settled in for a long morning.

Title: B is for Bottle  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Angsty.

**

Bottle.

A bottle of scotch from the year that both Hughes and himself were born. He had been saving it for a special occasion, and they had cracked the bottle open the night before Hughes got married, but very little had been drunk. They had already had so much to drink that they had both passed out before they could even finish the first glass.

So it sat, mostly full, for years.

Then it happened. A single shot, and his best friend was gone forever.

The night after the funeral, he re-opened that nearly 30 year old bottle of scotch and started to drink. He opened the bottle and with a shaky hand started to pour into his favorite drinking glass. As much of it made it onto his hand and spilled onto the table as went into the glass. It burnt going down his throat, but he really didn't care.

After trying and failing twice to get the scotch in the glass, he started to drink right from the bottle. It burnt a lot less by then, moving down his throat. He felt the familiar tingle in his fingers and toes as he started to numb from the pain.

It couldn't happen fast enough for him. He just wanted the hurt to end- the emptiness, the loss. He drank, and he started to feel the hot tears form in the corners of his eyes.

A better man would have blinked the tears away and stayed calm.

A stronger man wouldn't have to drown himself in alcohol.

He wasn't a stronger man. He wasn't a better man. He was a broken man. He was a man who had just lost his best friend.

So he drank more, and hoped that the numbness would take him soon enough.


	2. C and D

Title: C is for Cake  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes (and a little Hawkeye as well!)  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Silly silliness.

**

Cake.

Being in the Investigations department, Maes Hughes knew when Roy Mustang's birthday was. But Mustang had threatened him with the pain of being set on fire if he told anyone else.

Every year, Hughes was true to his word, and no one knew that particular day in the office was different than any other, unless they were observant enough to realize that on the same day every year there was a box that was left on Mustang's desk. It had no identification on it. All it had was a piece of paper on it that said 'Roy'. Nobody ever saw who dropped it off, it was there when everyone arrived in the morning.

Every year, Hawkeye would ask Mustang what was in the box, and every year Mustang would tell her that it was none of her concern. She would shrug and remind him to sign the paperwork that was on his desk, then go back to her work.

Every year, Mustang would close the door to his office before unwrapping the box. It was always the same, a white box with a dark blue ribbon, reminiscent of the color of their uniforms. He would carefully unwrap the ribbon and put it to the side, then open the box.

Every year, he would smell what was inside before he even saw it. It was one of Gracia's famously sinful cakes- with a moist, buttery inside and a thick creamy frosting that stuck to your ribs in the best of ways. He always kept a fork and a few napkins hidden in his office drawer, a fork he only used once a year.

Every year, he would wolf the cake down, not only because it was the best cake he had ever tasted, but he didn't want anyone to walk in on him and find out what was in the box. His secret would be out, and there was no way he was going to share his birthday or his cake with anyone else.

Every year Hawkeye seemed to have the perfect timing to knock on his door right as he was finishing the last few bites of his only birthday present. He would wipe his mouth and hide the fork, throwing away the evidence of the box and the napkin before telling her to enter and taking a sip of his coffee to get the smell of cake off his breath.

Every year she would come in, stiff and serious as ever and tell him what meetings he had planned and what papers had to be signed when. He knew she was more of a secretary than a bodyguard, but he wasn't sure what he would do without her either way, because he was he would never remember every little thing that was on his constantly full plate.

Every year, right before Hawkeye left the room, she would whisper to Mustang that he had a little cake frosting on his face, and he would blush just the slightest bit before thanking her and cleaning the tip of his nose.

Every year, Colonel Roy Mustang wondered how lucky he was to have such a great group of subordinates and friends, men and women who could give him the perfect birthday.

__________________________________________________________________

Title: D is for Danger  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Pre-series academy silliness! (possible alternate Mustang history)

**

Danger.

Roy Mustang had never been afraid of danger.

Even when he was growing up, he would always be climbing trees, picking up animals, and fighting with bullies that were twice his size. Of course, he was a rather small child, so most everyone was larger than him anyways. But perhaps that had just fueled his love of danger on even more.

Ever since he had started to learn flame alchemy from Mr. Hawkeye, his teacher had told him of the dangers that he faced. In fact, the first time he ever tried to use the alchemy he had landed in the hospital for weeks with burns so bad on his hands that for a short time, the doctors weren't sure that he would be able to keep all ten fingers. And the first day he got out of the hospital, he tried alchemy again.

When it was time for him to further his education at the military academy, Roy was mad that he wouldn't get to learn any more from a teacher that he had both feared and respected. Hawkeye was the only person in his life that he had ever feared- he *WAS* danger, personified.

Then he met Maes Hughes.

He was a tall boy, a little older than Roy and much smarter, even though he wasn't an alchemist. He had these knives that he never went anywhere without, glasses that perched precariously on the top of his long, thin nose, and this weird little spike of black hair that constantly fell over his eyes and annoyed him to no end, which cause Roy quite a few laughs.

There was nothing dangerous about Maes- at first. He was a good roommate, pretty clean, quiet. He brought over girls once in a while, but usually it was just to study. As they got to know each other more, they became fast friends. They didn't share a lot in common, but there was enough to form a strong bond right away.

Unfortunately for Roy, as soon as they became friends, the danger started. At first it was just playful pranks, like hot sauce in the toothpaste and unscrewing the salt shaker. But soon he was dragging the alchemist out to do pranks on other people. They unscrewed the pipes from the sinks in the men's restrooms and slicked all the doorknobs of the rooms in the science building with lard that they stole from the mess hall the night before.

One night, when Roy and Maes were running for their lives and military careers after tossing toilet paper all over the front lawn of the Brigadier General's house, Roy knew was danger was.

Danger was being Maes Hughes' best friend.


	3. E and F

Title: E is for Effort  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Silly and fluffy.

**

Effort.

Roy Mustang never put out any more effort than he had to. He was always cool, collected, and calm. He never let his emotions get the better of him.

Except, of course, with Maes Hughes.

He had made procrastination an art when it came to doing (or not doing) his paperwork, so he was startled, but hardly surprised when Lt. Hawkeye would try to shoot at him to wake him up when he would fall asleep and start to drool on the very paperwork that he needed to finish.

But Hughes. Hughes would never cease to getting Mustang's blood to a boil. It would never fail. Less than 5 minutes after Roy walked into his office, his coffee cup in hand- trying to drink enough caffeine to wake up for the rest of the day, the phone would ring.

"Mustang."

"You found yourself a wife yet, Colonel?"

"Hughes!"

"I hear there is a pretty little blonde over in Receiving..."

"Maes..."

"Or maybe Lt. Havoc has a girl that you can.."

"MAES!"

"Alright, alright. Say, you wanna meet for lunch in the mess hall? I got some new pictures of Elysia that I just *HAVE* to show you! She's such an angel! She.."

It was about then that Roy usually hung up the phone. Sometimes, it just wasn't worth the effort of being the best friend of Maes Hughes.

Title: F is for Fire  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes (and some Hawkeye too... woot)  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Fake Roy back history! Yah!

**

Fire.

Ever since he was a child, Roy Mustang had been fascinated by it. He wasn't sure why, but the flames that licked into the air and danced a pattern all of thier own just made him jealous that he could never be that wild and free.

He had been just a teenager, oily faced and gangly, when he tried to master the flame for the first time. For just a split second, half of a heartbeat, he saw it leap to his command, obey his whim.

Then it all went wrong in a blinding flash of light.

The next thing he remembered was the hospital bed, and the smell of antiseptic and burnt flesh. He looked down at his hands and saw nothing but one huge bandage from his elbow down. He tried to wiggle his fingers.

Bad mistake.

It took him at least 15 minutes to stop crying from the pain. It had just about dulled to a throbbing ember when a doctor came in and told him that he would be able to keep all of his fingers, but it has been close. Two of them had been burnt and fused together, but the doctors had been able to pry then back apart.

The stay in the hospital was unbearably long for Mustang, made worse the first time his teacher visited him and about beat him back into unconsciousness for trying something so stupid. But his daughter had been there, and stayed his hand. She showed compassion when no one else did.

Several weeks passed before they let him out of the hospital, mostly none the worse for wear. Despite the intense damage that had been done on the surface of the skin, once that skin (painfully) blistered and peeled off, there was very little scar tissue left behind, save the small knife scar between his middle and index fingers where they had to re-separate the two digits. But even that was hardly noticeable with where it was.

Years later, after Mustang made the acquaintance of Maes Hughes, he found himself at a bar, drunkenly explaining the scar on his finger for the first time to anyone. Only that goofball of a fool Hughes in the Investigations department would be observant enough to notice such a tiny imperfection, Mustang thought, somewhere deep in the back of his inebriated mind.

Hughes kept telling him that he never understood what Roy saw in fire that fascinated him so, and Mustang would just smiled and roll his eyes and tell him that if he was an alchemist, he would understand. And when they came back from the war, for a long time, the fire the burnt hot inside of Roy wavered- flickered in the wind.

Fire would never feel the same.


	4. G and H

Title: G is for Gold  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Rather silly.

**

Gold.

"Look, doesn't it sparkle, just like her eyes?"

Roy groaned, slapping his hand to his head. "Hughes, you have already shown me the ring a dozen times!" He looked around the room full of his subordinate officers. He had tried not to yell to get their attention, but apparently it hadn't worked. He flashed them a look- a look they all knew well, and immediately they all got back to work.

"Yeah, but it's the only thing that can even remotely compare to her beauty!" Maes held up the ring to the light. Gold glinted of the ultra smooth surface, reflecting a glimmer back onto the man who held it. A single diamond set in the middle of the band was the only thing that broke up the perfect circle.

"Maes." Roy sounded defeated, talking more into his hand than to his friend. "Why don't you stop showing it to me, and start showing it to her? You've been carrying that thing around in your pocket for close to a month now! Ask her to marry you already and stop bothering me!" Roy couldn't hold back the annoyance in his voice.

He looked hurt for a minute, his lip puffing out in a slight pout. He fingered the ring for another moment, then dropped it back into his pocket, looking utterly defeated. "I am. Tonight. I have a dinner reservation at Le Cellier, one of the finest places in town. It took me several weeks to get the reservation. That is why I have been holding onto the ring for so long."

Roy look up at his friend, feeling bad for just a moment that he had yelled at him a moment ago. But as fast as the moment came, it passed, as Maes' smile grew and he got more excited about his plans for the night.

"I'm gonna go all romantic on her. Candlelight, violin music, and after dinner the waiter will bring us champagne. They will put the ring in the glass!" He was grinning broadly by the time he finished explaining his plan- any hurt over what Roy had said a moment ago seemingly forgotten.

"You better make sure she doesn't swallow it." Roy smiled and gave his friend a mischievous smirk.

Hughes frowned for just a moment. "You sure know how to bring a man down, don't you?"

Roy clapped him on the back. "What are best friends for?"

* * *

Title: H is for Hand

Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: PG for violent images and suicidal thoughts.  
Disclaimer: Angsty post Ishbal Roy.

**

Hand.

Somewhere deep inside of his drunken mind, Roy knew that he needed to stop it, but his reflexes has long since been muddled, and he could only watch in what seemed like slow motion as the bottle slipped from his hand.

He grunted some unintelligible noise that didn't sound like any word in the human language as the amber liquid slowly soaked into his carpet. He knew that he should care, but he just couldn't turn that emotion on right now, he was way too far gone.

Slowly, he brought his hands to his face. For one second, no more than a heartbeat in time, he was back in Ishbal, and he saw the blood of all the innocent people that he had killed dripping from his hands. It stained his skin some pallid shade of crimson, running into the tiny grooves and whorls of his fingertips, guided like tiny rivers.

"I- I can't.." he almost whispered. His voice was tiny and hoarse. His eyes- watery and blurry- wandered around the room. It was sparsely furnished. There was one tall bookshelf that was packed with various alchemic texts. A small wooden table with a couple of chairs served as his dining room. The only other furniture in the small room was a beaten down sofa and chair set, both the same dull, lifeless shade of dark green.

He chuckled as his gaze lingered on the chair. "Old and beaten down, like me." He looked back to the table, where his revolver had been. It wasn't there. He knew Maes must have hidden it, or outright taken it from him again. Probably a good thing, he figured. It was getting harder and harder to resist the temptation of cold steel on his warm cheek.

The alchemist brought his hands to his face again, turning them over and back a couple of times. "What kind of pain and suffering have I wrought with these two hands?" he asked. There was a pause, as if he was waiting to get an answer.

No answer ever came.

Maes found him a few hours later on the floor of his apartment, curled up in a fetal position, the spilled bottle of scotch by his hand. He was breathing, though it was shallow and labored, he saw with relief.

He shook his head and sighed and closed the door behind him. It worried him more than a little that Roy didn't even bother to lock his door much any more. He had no doubt that a calm, stable Roy Mustang would have no problem with any sort of intruder, but this was not a calm, stable man that lay on the floor in front of him.

"Oh Roy." He asked. "What have you done?"

He walked over to his friend, kneeling down and shaking him softly. "Roy?" There was no response but his soft, wheezy breaths. He shook the alchemist a little harder. "Roy, dammit. Wake up!" He nudged the man, harder than he though necessary with the toe of his boot.

"Nnnnrf." was the only response he got.

"Fine." Maes stood back up and walked over to the small sink and filled a glass with some tap water. He walked back over and started to pour it softly over Roy' face.

"Rrr.. huh.. what? What the- " Roy shook his head, spluttering awake. Even in his drunken state and being woken up suddenly, his fingers instinctively went to the ready position, poised to snap.

"Roy, it's me. What the hell are you doing? I thought you were getting better. You told me that the nightmare and flashbacks were gone. You've been lying to me the whole time, haven't you?!" Maes almost growled the last sentence, grabbing Roy's shirt and pulling the groggy alchemist towards him. "Tell me the truth."

Roy sighed, not bothering to try to break the man's iron grip. "They.. have been getting worse." He admitted. "For a while, it was okay. But then, it all came back in a flash. "He brought his hands to his face. "These hands, Maes. They are killer's hands."

Maes let him go, and he crumpled back to the floor. Roy took the hand that Maes extended his hand downwards, and he helped the alchemist to his feet. He held Roy's hand for just a second, pulling the man's palms towards him.

"These hands," he said, "are destined for greatness. Remember your promise to me a few months ago? 'I'm going to be Fuhrer', you said. You want to end senseless killing, and you are sure that this is the way to do it. You will be Fuhrer, and I will help you get there, just like I promised. Until then, we just have to get through this. But you know I will always be here, to give you a kick in the ass when you need it, like right now."

"Or a face full of water." Roy smirked.

Maes laughed and put his hand on on his best friend's shoulder. "Whatever it takes, Roy. Whatever it takes."


	5. I and J

Title: I is for Irritate  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: PG for irresponsible fire use.  
Disclaimer: Very silly.

**

Irritate.

Ever since they first became roommates, Maes has always found new and exciting ways to irritate Roy. Most of their co-workers were amazed that Roy had never torched Maes after putting up with him for close to a decade.

But what the rest of the soldiers at Central Command didn't know was that there had been one time that Roy had used his fire alchemy on Maes. They had both sworn afterward never to speak of it again. It remained a secret that was shared only between the two of them.

*

It was a beautiful day at the academy. The boys had been roommates for close to two years, and it was almost graduation time.

Maes was hatching a devious scheme for one last prank before they left. He had procured several bags of fertilizer from the maintenance shed where all the grounds keeping supplies were kept. He planned on spelling out an obscene word in fertilizer on the parade grounds the night before graduation.

The plan went well, too well, the way Roy saw it. They were able to get to the parade grounds with the fertilizer with little problem. They used a couple of cadets (willing accomplices) as lookouts, spreading the fertilizer out in nice, large letters over the grass, already moist with dew, and they even had enough left over for a little flourish at the end.

When it was over, they disposed of the evidence, and their accomplices split off to avoid suspicion. Roy and Maes didn't stop their brisk walk until they got to the outside of their dorm room, where they paused for a moment.

"Whew." Maes wiped the sweat away from his brow with the back of a dirty hand. "I need a shower and some sleep, but first, I think I need a celebratory cigarette."

"You know those things are bad for you." Roy replied into the utter darkness of the night.

"Yes, Daddy." Maes smiled and grabbed a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket. "Just gimme a light, please."

Roy grinned, a wicked grin. He decided that he was going to give Maes a little scare, his own one last little prank. "Yeah, sure." he replied to his best friend. He snapped his fingers as usual, but he let the flame jump higher, letting it flicker right in front of Maes' face. But he didn't know that when Maes had wiped his face, some of the fertilizer had streaked onto his skin.

Highly flammable fertilizer.

"What the-" was the only thing that Maes got to stay before he saw the quick flash of light and felt the searing singe of flesh. Roy's eyes went wide and he snuffed out the flame- but not before it was too late. They both ran back inside the building and into their dorm room, where Maes ran into the bathroom and splashed water on his face.

"My eyebrows!" Roy heard from the other side of the door. "You fried my freaking eyebrows!"

"It wasn't my fault that you wanted a light, manure face."

"And it wasn't my fault that you decided to give me a flamethrower instead of a lighter!"

The next day, at graduation, there were quiet snickers in the crowd, but the alchemist's temper was well known, and nobody asked why Maes Hughes has no eyebrows and Roy Mustang had a black eye.

And only the faintest hint of fertilizer could be smelt on the breeze by the time the maintenance crew cleaned up the mess, long before the first cadet arrived on the parade grounds.

Title: J is for Job  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Kinda silly.

**

Job.

Roy liked his job. It paid well enough, but money was never really the issue with him. He didn't have a high cost lifestyle. In fact, his apartment was pretty sparsely furnished. He didn't spend much time there anyways. When he wasn't at his job, he was usually out on some sort of a date, in which case the bed would be used for things other than sleeping.

He had some prestige from his job. Almost everyone in Central, an even in other towns around Amestris knew who the Flame Alchemist was. He never made a secret about how he loved the attention that it gave him. Women loved a hot man, and who is hotter than the Flame?

The alchemist enjoyed his staff. They were good, loyal men (and woman) who worked well together and under his leadership. They would lay their lives on the line for him, he knew that. And they knew that he would do the same for them. Even the other soldiers that he worked with that weren't directly under his order were mostly tolerable, and he had many more allies than enemies.

And then there was Maes Hughes.

The two men had been friends for the better part of a decade. And there hadn't been a day that had gone by yet that Maes hadn't either called him, or come to visit him at work when they were stationed together in Central.

Maes would always bother Roy with pictures- first of his wife, and later of his little girl, and he always asked the alchemist when he was going to settle down and get a wife.

As much as Roy liked his job, he sometimes wondered if it was worth it to put up with his best friend working the same building. He figured that that should at least be worth hazard pay.


	6. K and L

Title: K is for Knife  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Mmmm.. angsty goodness. (and Episode 25 spoilers!)

**

Knife.

After the funeral, Gracia had given Roy a box of Maes' belongings. When he got it, he hadn't done any more than quickly skim over the first layer of items, which looked to be mostly photographs and small knick-knacks from when the two of them had roomed together at the military academy. He took is home and promptly put it under his bed. The wounds were just too fresh at the time.

Many months later, he found the box that was under his bed again when he was searching for something that he had dropped. It was dusty and slightly yellowed, but he knew immediately, even without a label, what was inside before he pulled it out and took off the slightly warped lid.

The photographs on the top were mostly candid pictures that Maes had taken while Roy was sleepy, or when Roy was actually sleeping, and unable to stop him from snapping the picture. There were a couple of shots of when Roy first attempted to shave his face and opened a nasty gash on his chin. Roy had threatened to burn the camera and the film in it, but by the time he had stopped the bleeding, the offending instrument was well hidden, and vengeance was eventually forgotten, until the next time Maes tried to snap a photograph.

Under the first layer of pictures were a few girly magazines that the two boys had shared. Roy always had his share of girlfriends, so the somewhat shyer Maes usually hid them under his mattress. There were also a couple of empty packs of the cheap brand of cigarettes that Maes used to smoke. That had come to an abrupt end once Gracia came into the picture. He also found a couple of the papers that Maes had written. That included one on the History of the Amestris Military, where he had gotten a 92, and another on Techniques of Investigation that he received a 95 on. Roy smiled and wondered how many low scoring papers he didn't bother saving.

Beneath that, Roy paused for a moment, before he pulled out one small, rusty push knife. It was very close to the type of knife that Maes always carried on his person, even while out of uniform- not unlike Roy and his ever present alchemic gloves.

He brought the knife up to his face, studying every little crack and crevice, every small imperfection that his best friend had left in it. He knew it was slightly different than the ones he used while he was in Investigations. It still had the black T-shaped handle, and the two sharply serrated edges that went halfway up the length of the blade. It was smaller and lighter, easier to throw. He knew this was Maes' practice knife, the one that he had learned to hone the deadly art of knife throwing.

He hefted it, tossed it up and caught it, testing the edge and the balance. To an unskilled thrower like him, it was a bit awkward, but despite that, and its rustiness, it still had it's edge, as he noticed when he saw the cut that it had left on the pad of his thumb after he ran his finger along it.

Roy suckled the blood away from his finger, then used a rag to clean the tiny streak of blood off the side of the blade. when it was clean again, he took it into his living room and sat it down on his desk, next to the only framed picture that he owned. It was a picture that had been taken the day the two boys graduated from the academy. Roy was serious as always, and Maes had his arm around the shorter man, his hat off and a huge, goofy smile plastered over his face.

The alchemist walked back into the room and put all the rest of the items back into the box and put the top back on. He took the box outside and behind his apartment building, in the alley where the dumpster was kept. With a sad face, he placed the box close to the dumpster, put on his alchemic glove, and snapped his fingers.

With all of the papers and photographs in it, it burnt for quite a while. The bright orange flames reflected in his moist black eyes, and even though the heat and the light stung his eyes and made them water, he didn't turn away until the last ember died, and it was reduced to nothing more than a smoldering pile of ash.

He walked back into his apartment and sunk down into his favorite old, overstuffed chair, poured a glass of scotch, and raised it in a silent toast to his fallen best friend.

Memories can cut worse than the blade of a knife.

Title: L is for Library  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Very silly. Academy fic.

Library.

Maes spent much more time in the library than he did in his dorm room, which suited his roommate just fine. Roy could be fairly certain that on most nights, if he brought his girlfriend (of the week) over, they would have plenty of alone until slightly after the library closed at 2200 hours.

Even when Maes did spend a rare night in the dorm room, the library still came through for Roy. There were private study rooms in the back corner of the second floor of the library that could be used by any student. Since they could be locked from the inside, and there were no windows facing out into the outer hallway of the library, it was a well known fact that the privacy that they offered were almost better than the dorms.

Almost.

Those rooms, unfortunately, did have one drawback- a drawback that the upperclassmen who told him about it failed to mention, and a drawback that nearly got Roy kicked out of school in only his second semester.

Paper thin walls do not hide the moans and other assorted noises for two people who are in the throes of passion.

Silence is especially important when you are in those throes of passion with the Brigadeer General's daughter, who also happens to be a student worker at the library.

Only the desperate pleading of his daughter, and the excellent character witnesses from his roommate and several (bribed) friends kept Roy from being expelled that unusually warm and pretty spring semester.

One of the stipulations of him being able to stay in school was that Roy could never again set foot in the study rooms, by himself or with others. He also had to have a male accomplice with him at all times while he was in the library.

He was never so happy to have a bookworm as a roommate and best friend after that incident.

And he never made fun of Maes' library habits, ever again.


	7. M and N

Title: M is for Match  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Angsty and sad. Has Episode 51 spoilers and spoilers from one scene in the movie (but not really movie based)

Match.

Stationed way out in the North, there was little that Roy Mustang could do when he wasn't on patrol other than try to stay warm. He was very grateful that there was a large fireplace against the wall in the middle of the tiny one room shack, and he tried as hard as he could to make sure that the fire was always going.

On the rare occasion that it did manage to go out, he had a large supply of matches on hand to relight it. He needed to stay as warm as possible, so he wore as many layers of clothing as he could. He learned quickly that the less skin that was exposed to the elements, the better.

Because of that, he continued to wear his white alchemic gloves, even though it had been close to two years now since he had last snapped his fingers to make a flame. He would always take a match out of the book and look at it carefully, and look at the glove that held it- with the red salamander array embroidered on the back. He would tell himself, 'Just this once' and raise his fingers to snap, then all the memories of the Ishbal Rebellion came rushing back to him. All of the innocent people that died at his hands, those salamander gloves, those killer's hands of his.

Then he would light the match.

He smiled inwardly, a sour, bitter smile, as he sipped on some scotch to help him keep warm. He used that excuse- the alcohol warmed his system. And he believed it, for a little while. He knew he really drank to make himself forget, but it was taking more and more alcohol to get to that point, the longer he was out here. The pain was harder and harder to get rid off, and he feared for the day that nothing would ever take the pain away.

The day the fire would consume him.

Roy wondered, what would Maes think about him now, a broken and bitter man who resorted to cheap matches to light a simple fire, when it would take one heartbeat, one snap of his fingers, to do the same thing? As he was thinking about that, he uncons1ciously raised his fingers, the thumb and the middle finger pressed closely together. He saw the barest, tiniest hint of the beginning of a spark being raised from the friction of cloth against cloth.

Roy chuckled and brought his hand back down to the arm of the old, beaten up chair, relaxing his fingers. Somehow this chair seemed appropriate here, where everything was old and broken down and falling apart.

"Maes, I wish you were here, now. I hate all of this. I am alone, broken, a shell of my former self. Hell, I'm not even the Flame Alchemist any more. My flame has died out."

He sighed and took another long sip of scotch and glanced out the small window that sat about halfway up the wall. A fierce snowstorm was whipping up, blowing snowdrifts as high as the bottom of the windows. He could hear the wind howling through the thin wooden walls, causing the boards to rattle slightly, and bow and warp.

"I miss you, old friend." Right then, a particularly bad gust of wind blew the rickety door open and sent a blast of chilly air throughout the small room, extinguishing the small flame that he had just lit a couple of minutes ago in the fireplace. He groaned.

The ex-alchemist shook his head and raised his fist up towards the sky as he walked over to the door that was now rattling against the inner wall of the shack. "That wasn't funny, Maes." He grumbled. "Even after you are dead, you still can't resist annoying me one last time, huh?"

People would have called him crazy if he had admitted it, but he could have sworn that he heard a low chuckle on the wind and he braced his body and used all of his weight against the wind to close and bolt the door shut, and grabbed the box of matches, pulling a singular, red-tipped match out to re-light the fire.

Title: N is for Nap  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Really silly. And oh so terribly tongue in cheek for the first part of it.

Nap.

There was little more that Roy Mustang liked better in this world more than a nice, long nap. He worked hard, getting up at the crack of dawn to be the first one there, so he could make sure that all of his subordinates made it to work on time. He knew how important punctuality was.

And he was usually the last one there to leave, after everyone else had already gone home. Often, that slave driver of a secretary, Hawkeye, would give him last minute papers to sign, even though his hand was already tired from vigorously signing papers all day, that would keep in at work well into the evening hours.

But, of course, there was his busy social schedule as well. If he wasn't schmoozing with some of the higher ups in Central Command, then he had the ladies who attracted his interest as well. And of course, he was a liaison of the Amestris Army, and of alchemists everywhere, and in the interest of good politics and good will, he could not let these ladies feel like they had been mistreated by a government official. Oh heavens, no. He had to attend to these fine women's needs, to attend to these duties, as tough as they were at time. He couldn't stand to let his government or his country down.

With his ultra busy lifestyle, it was hard for Roy to find enough hours in the day to get the amount of sleep that could sustain that type of high energy life.

That is where the naps came in.

Mostly, he attempted to nap during and right after lunch. He usually ate fairly light at work, and he tended not to need the entire hour to down the.. stuff that the mess hall called food. Those extra minutes, when he wasn't eating, were normally well spent at his desk, leaning back in his chair with his eyes shut and his feet propped up on his immaculate desk.

Often, those naps would extend well past his appointed lunch hour and far into the next hour beyond, usually until the annoying Hawkeye would attempt to give him a heart attack by firing her gun at him to wake him up.

But, as scary as that was to be woken up to, there was something- one thing- far worse that would occasionally rouse the peaceful, serene alchemist from his deep, well deserved slumber.

Maes Hughes.

One particular afternoon, after Roy had been up quite late the night before teaching a rather beautiful recent medical graduate the practicalities of human anatomy, he was awakened suddenly by a high, excited voice.

"Hey, Roy! Take a look at this!"

He sputtered awake, immediately forgetting the rather amorous dream that he had been having and almost falling backwards out of his chair. The newest photograph of Maes' daughter, Elysia, who has just turned three a few weeks before, was thrust at his face- threatening to push into the end of his nose.

"Hughes." He said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"Isn't she just the cutest darn thing? She has been working in the garden with her mommy. She's going to have the greenest green thumb anyone has ever seen, I just know it!"

"Hughes.." Roy said, much more annoyed, his eye twitching lightly.

"And just today, she was counting. Counting, Roy! She got all the way up to 20! I am so proud of her!"

"Maes!" the alchemist yelled, finally stopping Maes in mid breath, when the was about to start speaking again. He immediately calmed down. "What is it, Roy?" he said calmly, quietly.

"I was sleeping." He replied, matter-of-factly.

"Well, you aren't now!" His voice grew more excited again, and he pushed another picture in front of Roy's face. "Look, here she is in the pool! I know she still has to wear the water wings for now, but she's going to be a swim star, definitely! Look at that form! She..."

Roy rubbed his eyes with his index fingers and tried to tune his best friend out. He knew there was no way that he was going to get back to that nap now.


	8. O and P

Title: O is for Office  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Silly.

Office.

Roy Mustang was always proud of his office, although most of the time, he didn't really show it.

His office wasn't much of an office at all. It was more like a large room, with a bunch of tables pushed together to make one huge table in the dead center. There were some other sparse furnishings- a couple of extra chairs, and a old, worn down black couch. But that was it besides his desk.

His desk. Even though it was usually messy and cluttered with papers, it was *his*, and he would swear to anyone that he knew EXACTLY where to put his hands on anything that he needed at the moment.

He had an in/out box, but usually his "in" pile was so tall that it made the box unusable. He had tried once to keep the "out" box under the "in", to solve that problem, but when he finally got through all of his papers, the opposite problem would arise. He finally gave up on the concept of using the boxes altogether.

There was also a small green reading lamp on the table, and his favorite coffee cup, which was stained a permanent dull brown on the inside and had a chip on the handle from when he had been forgetful and hadn't left the usual spot on his desk open.

That was the one thing that he did have to be careful of- to always leave one small spot on the side of the desk free of any papers or anything else that he didn't want to get crushed or knocked off onto the floor.

Roy was lucky that his glass hadn't shattered completely. He wasn't sure what he would do without what he considered his lucky cup. He called it lucky because the first day after he got it- right after being stationed in Central- he got a date with the hottest girl in the office. Sure, the relationship hadn't lasted long, but it was enough to cement his reputation for being *the* hot date to get.

After a long night with yet another one of the hottest ladies in the office, Mustang had gotten to work a bit late, stopped by the machine, and grabbed a cup of the liquid that they called coffee. He sat it on the side of the desk and groaned, running a hand through his still messy hair, while staring at the larger than usual pile of papers that he had to go through.

"Hey, Roy! Guess what I got!" He didn't even have to look up from the paper that he had been studying for the last few minutes, his sleepy eyes- trying to make sense of all the marks on the paper that he knew were words- to know who that was.

"Hughes, this is not a good time. I have a lot of work to-"

"Of course. It's never a good time with you, Roy! You're always so busy with that paperwork. I know I'm busy all the time. I never seen to have enough hours in the day to do all my work!"

"And yet, you are still here, bothering me."

"Damn right!" Maes walked over to the desk and sat on the one bare patch that was usually reserved for him, sitting backwards off the edge so his long legs would dangle off the side.

Except that Roy had accidentally left his coffee cup in that space- again.

There was a sickening crash. Coffee and large hunks of the ceramic mug scattered onto the floor. Maes yelped in surprise and jumped back off the desk, almost slipping on the now slick floor.

"Oh. Umm, sorry, Roy. I didn't see it there."

Roy's fists were trembling, clenched so tight that they were pale from lack of blood. "Hughes.." He said in a low, even tone, his anger bubbling right underneath the surface.

"I'm... going to go get some paper towels. Roy, you stay right here." The alchemist had never seen the man run so fast out of the office.

He looked sadly down at the tattered mess that was his coffee cup. He knew that he could put it back together with alchemy, but thought that it just wouldn't be the same.

As he looked around the office, the faces that had gathered to watch the spectacle of a train wreck that was Maes and Roy interacting, he suddenly wished that he could be anywhere but here.

________________________________________

Title: P is for Procrastinate  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Silly academy fic!

Procrastinate.

"You really have made that an art, you know?"

Roy looked up from his book on the history of the Amestris Military late one Sunday night and looked over the book and across the table at his roommate.

"Hey, I can't help if it I have a busy schedule and can't start studying before tonight."

"'Tonight' is the night before the big exam, and your 'busy schedule' consists of whichever upperclassman that you can convince to go out on a date with you!"

"Hey, don't blame me if they pick the stud over the nerd, Maes."

He sputtered, spilling coffee on his notes. "Nerd? Just because I have a high grade point average and am on the Dean's List because I study, and don't procrastinate like your lazy ass, and you call me a nerd?"

"When was the last time you went out on a date?"

Maes stopped trying to clean the coffee off of his meticulous notes and though for a moment, rubbing his newly stubbled chin. "Hmm. Well that was that blond girl, you know, with the nice rack.."

"That was *last* semester, Maes. And she was a pity date. I had dated her a bit the semester before and she mentioned that she thought you were cute, so I set you guys up.

"She.. didn't really like me?" Maes pouted.

"Well, she said you were cute, and funny, but you spent too much time studying.

"Hmm.. So if I want to get girls, then I have to become a slacker like you?"

"Yes.. I mean no.. I mean.. I am *not* a slacker. my grades are fine. I can balance school and my social responsibilities."

Maes laughed. "Social responsibilities? is that what you call that huge black book that you keep?"

"Yeah. What else would you call it?"

"Procrastination."

Roy crossed his arms. It was his turn to pout. "I already told you. I am not procrastinating. Now, if you don't mind, I need to study. I have a huge exam tomorrow morning."

"And if you hadn't waited until the last minute, you wouldn't have to be up at an ungodly hour, keeping your roommate up with the lights. That reeks of procrastination."

The only response that Maes got was a pillow thrown at his face, which he promptly put over his face and rolled over in his bunk, hoping that would block out enough light to help him get to sleep.

The procrastinator was not the only person who had a big exam in the morning.


	9. Q and R

Title: Q is for Quiet  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Silly, as usual, a little sad at the end (and a little spoiler as well)

**

Quiet

Quiet was a luxury that Roy never had enough of. He certainly never got any quiet time at work. Usually, Hawkeye was looming over him, making sure that the papers that were due that day were getting signed.

And of course, he would have the normal background conversations of his subordinates, talking about their latest date, or a really tough game of chess, or spouting on about one tiny insignificant detail of some random object.

If it wasn't the incessant chattering of his subordinates that distracted him, then it was Fullmetal bursting in, screaming and calling the colonel every word that he could think of. Poor Al would always try to calm the boy down, but it's impossible to rope a hurricane.

And if Maes Hughes came to visit, then *any* hope that he was going to get work done went out the window. By the time his friend was finished showing Roy the newest photographs of his daughter, and Roy was finally able to push him out of his office (sometimes quite literally), the alchemist had long since forgotten what he was doing, and he needed to take a long break to clear his head and get his thoughts in order, so he could start working again.

But then there was home. His home.

It was his sanctuary, his refuge, the place where he could finally take off the mask that he wore every day- relax with a drink, and perhaps play a record on his phonograph. He savored these moments, the brief respites of peace and quiet. They were so few and far between that he learned to treat them as if they were made of gold.

But as was usual in his life, nothing was ever constant in Roy's world- except for change. He could never keep a girlfriend more than a few weeks, and even his job seemed to shuffle him around every few years to keep him in line.

And so it was with his quiet time as well. He learned to cringe at the sound of his telephone ringing in the evenings, shattering his peaceful world. He always knew who it was on the other line, and although he often contemplated not answering it, he knew it would be ten times worse the next day at work if he didn't. He found that out the hard way once, and he vowed that he would never repeat that mistake. 'Accidentally' dropping the phone and hanging up on his best friend after he had been yakking on for a while was infinitely easier then trying to get away while behind he was stuck behind his desk.

As much as Roy hated to have his quiet time disturbed- and he would never admit it to anyone- he really liked talking to Maes. After he was gone, there was nothing Roy would have loved more than to hear his phone ring one more time.

The nights were too quiet.

____________________________________________

Title: R is for Rain  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Angsty and sad. Episode 25 spoilers, and some other character death.

**

Rain

Roy didn't think that he hated anything more than he hated a rainy day.

But that was before he lost his best friend.

And what was worse, even when he had to watch- trying as hard as he could not to fall to his knees and cry- when Maes was laid to rest, the sky became overcast, as grey and dreary as he felt. That evening, after the ceremony, it had rained- not a little drizzle but a torrential downpour, like the heavens themselves were crying out in pain.

Even though he didn't believe in God, he knew how they felt.

He sat that night, at his kitchen table. He had a bottle of scotch in one hand, and a glass in the other. And he stared out the window, into the pounding rain, his eyes glazing over, and his mind a million miles away. The wind howled and the rain turned diagonal, splattering against the glass in droplets that looked almost too large to be single raindrops.

Still Roy stared, out into the rainy darkness. Minutes turned to hours, and the darkness eventually became light. The rain slowed, then stopped, and still Roy stared, watching the first rays of the sun come into being over the horizon, the promise of a new day, bright and sunny, all the sins of the past washed away in a torrent of life giving water.

And still Roy stared.

The bottle of scotch had been empty for most of the night, and his hands cramped where they had been held in the same position for hours on end. He blinked, his eyes red and aching, but dry. He had run out of tears long ago.

Somehow, he willed himself to move. It was slow, and unsteady, but he unclenched his hands from the bottle and the glass, and blinked at the bright light of the sun. He knew he had to move, to keep going. The more he sat and thought about Maes, the less he would be able to get on with his life, and isn't that was Maes would have wanted?

He did get on with his life, eventually. It was never easy, and there was never a day that went by that he didn't think about his best friend, what he would have said in a certain conversation, or how he would have reacted to a certain predicament. Every time he went to check on Gracia and Elysia, he saw him in his little girl's eyes.

And every time it would rain, Roy would get depressed, and think about the day that he lost his best friend in the world.

The day that Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, shuffled off the mortal coil- it was a gray and dreary day.

It rained.


	10. S and T

Title: S is for Smile  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Silly.

**

Smile.

Roy knew to fear the smile. When he saw his best friend walk into the room with a big smile on his face, it was trouble. Most of the time, that goofy grin on Maes' face meant that he had a new batch of pictures to show him.

He tried as hard as he could to hate those times, when Maes burst in and made him stop whatever it was he was doing at the time to pay attention to him, and his photographs, and he would always look at his best friend with some combination of annoyance and boredom, but secretly he actually enjoyed it.

Not only did it let Roy stop the grueling and repetitive paperwork and give his tired hand a rest, but he really did care for Gracia and Elysia, and he liked to see what they had been up to. They were like a second family to him- more like a first, really- as he had no contact with any of his relatives.

More often than not, Maes would pepper his visit with jokes and anecdotes about what was going on around the office. He was an excellent source for gossip. Roy was not really a fan of gossip, per se, but if he listened intently to the man's ramblings. If he was able to glean some information on his superiors that would help him move up towards the top, then that was all the better.

The vast majority of the gossip, however, focused on people who Roy mostly only saw in passing, and therefore, had very little interest in. But being in Investigations, Maes was good about finding things out about people that they didn't want known- and there has been many a time that Maes had made Roy chuckle at the antics of his subordinate officers, like Havoc's odd habit of picking at his fingernails when he was alone, or Falman actually practicing making faces in the bathroom mirror.

Of course, there was no way that Roy would ever admit it, but Maes was the only person who could ever get him to laugh. The alchemist wore his stone facade to the world- the little wooden solider of the military. He never admitted his hopes, or fears or aspirations to anyone besides his best friend- and to a lesser degree, his subordinate officers- both of which he trusted with his life, literally and figuratively (his military career).

Years later, he regretted that he never got to tell Maes how much the man made him laugh, or how much he actually looked forward to the times when he would barge into the colonel's office, photos in hand, goofy smile plastered onto his long face.

It took a long time after the funeral for Roy Mustang to smile again.

* * *

Title: T is for Target  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Angsty, with manga spoilers.

**

Target.

Being young and ambitious, Roy Mustang had always been the target for attacks, both on his character, and physically on his body. That never bothered him much. He was more than capable of taking care of himself, and he was well aware that the shortened lifespan that often came with putting on the blue uniform of the Amestris military.

He wasn't prepared, however, when his own men and women were used against him to keep him from reaching the top. The house of cards that he had so carefully built up over the years of his military service came crashing down around him.

First it was his jester- Maes Hughes. The man had been too smart for his own good, and had found out some things about the military that many did not want revealed. Late one night, he was murdered in cold blood, his secrets going with him to the grave.

Soon after, it was one of his jacks- Jean Havoc, who had been with the colonel on a mission in an abandoned building. Roy had been attacked, but he had survived with relatively minor injuries, if one can call being run through by the homunculus, Lust minor. Unfortunately, Havoc had not fared as well against her. He had been paralyzed from the waist down.

His other jacks, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, and Kain Fuery, were scattered to the four winds of the country, quite literally. They were sent to the northern, southern, and eastern command centers, well away from any easy contact with their colonel.

The final blow to Roy was to his queen- Riza Hawkeye. While he was infinitely glad that she hadn't been harmed physically like the other two, in a way it was much, much worse. She was put under the direct command of Fuhrer Bradley, as his secretary. They both knew that Bradley was a homunculus as well, and this was the best way that the furher could make sure that Roy knew his place.

Roy knew that he was powerless to do anything. The king had no tricks left to play. He wished that Maes was here to help him- he had always been the much smarter of the two. Roy had no doubt that the man could have figured out a way to overthrow the homunculus without losing any more of his team. But it was a moot point. Maes was gone, and Roy was alone- a king without his men.

So Roy did what he could- he bided his time and watched his team from afar, waiting for the day when they would all be together again- a royal flush, trumping all.


	11. U and V

Title: U is for Used  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Angst-ridden

**

Used.

Dirty and used. That was how Roy felt after the Ishbal War- no, the Ishbal Massacre was over.

While he was there, for the most part, he was lucky enough to not have to think about what he was doing. He was so busy trying to stay alive- kill without being killed- that the true horrors of what was being done were relegated to the very back corners of his mind.

He rarely ate- no more than he had to keep alive, and he barely ever slept. When he did, the faces of the people that he killed haunted his dreams, and made him wake up in a cold sweat.

After a while, he figured that the deep unconsciousness that came from utter fatigue due to a lack of sleep was better than the nightmares that he faced when he closed his eyes and tried to rest.

And then, he got the order to kill two people.

The ones he killed didn't have dark skin or red eyes. They weren't Ishbalan murderers who had raised a gun against the Amestrian Army. In fact, they had never even killed a single person.

They were from Amestris, just like him.

They were doctors, two young doctors who had a toddler waiting for them back at home. And Roy was going to make that child an orphan.

The higher ups didn't even give him the chance to use his flame alchemy on the pair. At least if he used that, he could have burned them quickly and not made them suffer for more than a moment. He was told to make it look like the Ishbalans gunned them down in cold blood.

He couldn't even look at them as he did the ghastly deed. He tried to aim his shaking hand towards the man's heart first, so he would die immediately.

A shot rang out. Roy heard him crumple to the ground. He heard the woman scream. It all seemed to go in slow motion. He opened his eyes. She was kneeling beside her bleeding and dying husband. Grand, Roy's superior officer, ordered him to shoot her. It took him a moment to comply. Grand yelled at Roy again, saying that he would be court marshaled if he didn't shoot. She was on the ground, her side to Roy. He couldn't take a shot at her heart, so he took the only other shot he had.

The single bullet struck her on the side of her head.

She fell, dead, slumped over her husband as he took his last breaths.

When time came back to normal, Roy could do nothing but stand there, the still hot and smoking gun in his hand, his finger just millimeters away from the trigger. He stood there, wide eyed and gasping, as soldiers drug the two bodies away, not even bothering to clean up the gory, bloody mess that had been left on the floor, and the wall behind them.

He vaguely remembered someone- maybe it was Kimbley but he wasn't really sure- thrusting a bottle into his had and telling him what a good job he done.

And still he stood there. He stood there long after Grand had finished barking out orders on how to make it look like an Ishbalan attack, long after the last solider had left to head back to their barracks, long after the sun had set and darkness crept into the room- a gathering shadow that threatened to swallow him whole.

And still he stood there.

Somehow, he didn't remember the details of it afterward, the bottle of alcohol became empty, and it fell from his hand- clattering to the floor and rolling away from him, as if even it didn't want anything to do with the cold blooded killer.

Then he remembered the gun his hand.

For a split second, he looked down at it. It had grown cool over the time that he had been standing there, and his fingers were cramped from staying in a state of readiness to pull the trigger.

In a heartbeat, he brought it up to the underside of the chin, feeling the cold, black steel against his pale, clammy skin. Just one single shot, and it would be over. No more guilt, no more pain, no more being used as a weapon of the state.

But the Crystal Alchemist put a stop to that. He walked in at the last moment, and talked the young man out of trying to kill himself.

Roy was alive, at least in body.

The flame alchemist lived on. He went on being used as a weapon for the Amestrian Army- killing Ishbalans, being a weapon of the state, used for his augmented alchemic skill.

And when it was all over, he headed back to Central, and the relative normalcy of live in a civilized town. His best friend was there to greet him at the train station. But what Maes saw was not the young man- and former academy roommate- that he had know only a couple of months before.

Roy was an old, broken, worn down, and weary man. He looked like he hadn't slept in the entirety of his time in Ishbal, and the already thin man looked more like a skeleton than a person- pale, stretched skin on protruding bones, almost paper thin and fragile.

Maes did the best he could to bring the man he knew and cared for like a brother back from the hell that he had seen on the battlefield- letting him vent and cry and scream when he needed to, keeping Roy from killing himself when the nightmares got too much for him to handle, and slowly trying to help him build the pieces of his shattered life back together.

But some wounds heal faster than others.

* * *

Title: V is for Vacation  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Silly.

**

Vacation.

For the vast majority of Roy's early life, he loved the word. When he was a child, it meant an escape- getting away from the oppressive stuffiness of a house that was kept immaculate day in and day out- and heaven and earth forbid if something of his was found out of place. Vacation meant that the strict rules of his upbringing were relaxed for a few brief days of pure bliss, and he could truly enjoy himself- a rare luxury in his life.

Even when Roy grew older, and he went away to study at the military academy, he learned to love vacations. They meant no classes, and no classes meant that there was more time to chase girls, and to hang out with his roommate- assuming that he wasn't out chasing girls himself.

Years later, when he became a lieutenant colonel, and had men under his command, the word vacation became like a foreign language to him. There was always some case or another that needed to be worked on, and he rarely got more than a weekend off at a time- and sometimes not even that.

It seemed that every time he was going to put in for time off, something else came up- Barry the Chopper, or Scar, or most of the time it was just trying to keep up with the destructive hurricane that was the Fullmetal Alchemist.

Finally, Roy was able to get a break in the cases he was working on long enough to take a short vacation. And being the fool that he was at the time, he had invited his best friend along. Maes was married, but his wife was out of town visiting her parents- breaking the news to them that she and the man that they didn't approve of her marrying were going to have a child. They both thought it best if he wasn't there, and he didn't argue the point.

Poor Maes had been lonely since his wife left, and worried about her traveling while pregnant, and Roy thought that a vacation would be a good way to get his mind off of her for a while.

At first, everything went well. They stayed at the lake house that Gracia's family owned- sleeping in until they felt like getting up and moving around, fishing, talking hikes into the forest to watch for animals, and laying down outside at night, trying to outdo each other with their knowledge of the stars.

But by the time they came back, neither of the men were talking to each other. Maes had singed eyebrows and hair, and slight burns on his skin, and Roy had a mean looking black eye and an ugly knot on the top of his head that barely poked through his dark raven colored hair. Nobody under either of the men's commands could get them to explained just what had happened that weekend.

After that fiasco, Roy never wanted to go on another vacation, ever again.


	12. W and X

Title: W is for Weapon  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: PG-13 for gory, bloody imagery.  
Disclaimer: Angst-ridden.

**

Weapon.

Snap.

Just one snap and it was all over.

One snap and there was no body to clean up, just a mess of bones and sticky, greasy fat that bubbled and boiled long after the flame had dissipated.

Such was the way of the human weapon, the Flame Alchemist.

Even after the war was over, and he was back in Central with a hot shower, clean clothes, food that actually tasted like it was something that was meant to be eaten- a normal life- he still couldn't escape the life of a dog of the military.

The life of an alchemic weapon.

He tried to explain it to Maes- over many glasses of whiskey, or looking down at the barrel of a gun. Maes hadn't been in that desert hell hole, and he wasn't an alchemist. He couldn't understand the horror of having a simple snap of the fingers, *your fingers* turn a living, breathing human being into a smoldering, charred mound of fat and bone.

His best friend tried to understand. He was a solider. He had taken the life of a fellow human being before, and he knew the horrors and nightmares that came with the life of the Amestrian military, but not in the vast scope that the alchemists of Ishbal had witnessed.

All Maes could do was to keep the man from killing himself, and listen to the stories that he told- even though just hearing them often kept Maes up late at night, clutching his pillow with white knuckles and pale, clammy skin.

He did everything that he could to keep Roy safe, and sane- and when it got bad, bad enough that he wasn't sure if the alchemist was going to be able to go on, he reminded Roy of the promise that they had made what seemed like so long ago. Roy was going to become Fuhrer, and Maes would be there every step of the way, helping his best friend to reach the top.

And so Roy continued on with his life, determined to do what he could until he accomplished his goal, and the time that he would never again have to be a human weapon.

Title: X is for Xing  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Mostly silly

**

Xing.

As soon as the buildings of the Amestrian Military Academy came into view, Roy hoped that the days of being teased for the way that he looked was over. He knew that the kids in grade school and high school could be emotionally immature and quick to jump onto any trait that would single a person out for ridicule. But he figured that by the time they were entering the military, the maturity level would grow, and he would leave the name calling behind.

Unfortunately, he was wrong.

"Go back to Xing, you thin-eyed freak!" Or some variation of that was what he heard while he was lugging the few boxes of belongings that he had brought with him towards the freshmen dorm, and up the stairs.

"Of course, I would be on the top floor." He groused, stopping at the top of each flight of stairs to wipe away the sweat that was quickly forming on his brow. It was a sweltering summer day, the hottest so far this season, and it was painfully obvious that he wasn't going to get any one to help lug the boxes to his room.

When he finally got to the last flight of stairs, he noticed that a tall, dark haired man was walking down the hallway. The man spotted him immediately, and started to walk faster towards him.

Roy quickly looked down at his boxes, then backwards at the stairwell behind him. He figured that he didn't have enough time to grab his boxes and run, but he could abandon his boxes and retreat down the stairwell. But he had so few important possessions that he loathed the thought of abandoning what he had brought. Even though the books inside were in his own personal code, he didn't want the secrets of the flame alchemy that he was attempting to learn to fall into the wrong hands. His teacher would roast him alive if he found out.

By the time he looked back from the stairwell to the hallway, it was too late. The man was only a couple of steps away, with a serious look on his face.

"That's a lot of stuff there." He said, plainly, looking over the boxes. He adjusted the rectangular glasses that perched precariously on the top of his long nose. He was easily half a foot taller than Roy, with black hair as well, though it wasn't as dark. And he had the oddest shade of gold-green eyes that Roy had ever seen. He was wearing a loud, ugly purple button up shirt that he hadn't bothered to tuck in, and black slacks over a pair of black loafers.

Even though it only took a moment for Roy's quick assessment of the man, by the time he looked back up, the other man looked bored and a little annoyed. "Um, yeah." Was all that Roy could reply. "I'm looking for room…" He stopped for a moment to take a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, open it up, and read it. "…Room 714. Do you know where that is?"

Finally, a smile broke the plane of the man's long mouth. "I better know where that is!" He said with a chuckle. "That's my room!" He clapped Roy on the back, a seemingly impossibly big grin covering the man's face. "Maes Hughes. It's nice to meet you." He extended his hand.

Roy took the hand tentatively and shook it. "Roy Mustang."

"Let's get this stuff to the room. You don't want it cluttering up the hallway." He picked up a box, straining a bit. "Man! You got rocks in here or something?"

"They're alchemy books." Roy immediately regretted saying it, after it left his mouth. Looking different was one thing, but being labeled as a "freak" alchemist was even worse.

"Ah. Alchemy, huh? Never had the patience for it myself." The smile never faded from his roommate's face.

'Maybe he doesn't hate alchemists like everyone else seems to.' Roy thought to himself. 'I can only hope that's the case. I'm gonna be living with him for 4 years.'

Maes got to the room first and skillfully balanced the box he was holding on his side while he used his free hand to unlock the door. He shifted the box back and walked in, putting it on the ground. Roy followed behind, closing the door behind him.

"Here ya go, home sweet home." Maes said, spreading his arms out in the middle of the small room. "So you're an alchemist huh? You don't look like you're from around here, although I don't hear any accent in your voice. I heard the people of Xing, far over to the east, study alchemy as well. But it's a different kind of alchemy, more medicinal. Is that your specialty? I know that every alchemist has an area of expertise."

Roy looked confused for a moment. Once again he had been accused of being Xingian, but this time it wasn't in an insulting way. It was more of a curious question, and that threw him off.

"Um… no, actually." Roy replied, still unsure of the man's intentions. "I'm not from Xing. I get that a lot. People see my eyes and hair, or find out that I'm an alchemist, and I get called every name in the book. I was hoping that coming here would alleviate that, but so far, it hasn't."

Maes looked crestfallen. "Oh. I'm sorry if I insulted you. I didn't mean to. Personally, I don't care where you're from, or what you do, as long as you don't get me in trouble! And if anyone gives you a hard time, I'll beat 'em up for you. How's that?" The same huge grin from the hallway filled his face.

Roy shook his head and smiled. He still wasn't sure what to think about his new roommate, but he had a feeling that this was going to be the start of some very, very interesting times.


	13. Y and Z

Title: Y is for Yesterday  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Angst-ridden\

**

Yesterday.

Yesterday I buried my brother in arms.

Yesterday he was here, annoying me on the phone, rambling on about something or another that had to do with his wife and daughter, and the next day I was standing at his grave site, watching the coffin being lowered into the freshly dug earth with dozens of friends and fellow soldiers beside me.

Yesterday I had to wake up early, and don my best military uniform- complete with all the medals that I won for slaughtering the innocent women and children in Ishbal. I wore the cap that I hated because it pushed the bangs that I kept forgetting to get trimmed down into my face and tickled my nose. And I had to don the black slash that went around my shoulder- the sash that indicated a fallen solider.

Yesterday I had to become a wooden solider, holding back my emotions like the good dog of the military that I was supposed to be, even though my heart was breaking every time that Elysia asked her mom where her daddy was or why he wasn't busy working.

Yesterday, I stood at his grave and told him how stupid it was that he promised how he would push me towards the top- helping me at my goal of becoming Fuhrer one day, and here he was- shot dead and outranking me. And Hawkeye, my ever faithful Hawkeye, stood by me- and waited for me finish talking to a man whose voice I would never hear again.

Yesterday, I went home and poured myself the oldest whiskey that I had, and drank, and cried, and drank some more. I finally broke down where no one would see me. I was tired of being the stone faced colonel, always cool in the face of pressure. I was alone once again, and I missed my best friend.

Today, what's left of my life will start again. I still have to get up. I still have to put on the military uniform, and I still have to go to work. I will put up my stone facade and pretend that I am fine, pretend that a small part of me wasn't just ripped away from flesh and bone, rendering me inert and helpless.

Such will be my life for many tomorrows to come.

* * *

Title: Z is for Zeal  
Author: SeaweedOtter  
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Cute, future AU RoyAi

Zeal.

I never had much of a zeal for life. Sure, when I was young, there were things that would get me excited- seeing a frog in the grass, getting praised for doing a good job, or years later, the thrill of seeing my flame alchemy work for the first time.

But the Ishballan massacre changed all of that.

The horrors that I saw there- the nightmares that haunted my dreams, the women and children that died at the snap of my fingers, erased my zeal for life.

For years, I was nothing but a hollow shell of myself. I did my job, and did it well, but that was only because I wanted more than what I had. I wanted to become Fuhrer so I would never have to see another young soldier lose that zeal for life- the sparkle in their eyes, the excitement of knowing that they were doing their jobs for the good of their country, and their fellow man.

In that desert hell hole, everything was taken from me, and that feeling of happiness and passion faded away even further. I lost my best friend, I lost my chance to become Fuhrer, and I lost a part of myself, both literally and figuratively.

And just when I thought that there was nothing else for me to lose, I found the one thing that had been with me all along. One woman who had protected my back. One woman who had been there at the absolute worst times of my life, picking up where my brother in arms had left- when a single bullet cut him down.

I never figured out what I had, until I almost lost that as well. She nursed me back to health, both my eye, and my heart. We had respected each other as soldiers and came to depend on each other as friends, but there was more, much more.

I had always been jealous of how much zeal, how much passion and enthusiasm for life, the world, and his family that Maes Hughes had until it wasn't there any more. I never thought that I could match that man in his lust for life.

Years later, when the country was once again a peaceful place to live, I married the woman who had been my rock for so long. I had been anchored firmly to her, although it took me way too long to figure it out. I was happy with her. Our lives were permanently intertwined, and the zeal for life slowly started to come back to me.

And then, our daughter was born. She was so tiny, so perfect. The way she smiled at me, and held my finger with her miniscule hand simply made my heart melt.

All of a sudden, I knew how Maes had felt- all those times that he had been bugging me about his wife, or telling me about the most seemingly unimportant things that his daughter had just done- like the first time she threw up on him while he was feeding her.

And I cried. I cried for the perfect bundle of joy that I had cradled, sleeping, in my arms. I cried for my wife, who lay beside me, sweating and exhausted, but resting comfortably after a long night's work. And I cried for my best friend, whose beaming face I could picture in my mind- my brother in arms who would never get to tell me "I told you so" about having a family of my own.


End file.
